


Mistress

by Eilinelithil



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Stargate Universe
Genre: Angry Sex, F/M, One Shot, drabble - well not quite.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23370007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilinelithil/pseuds/Eilinelithil
Summary: Rush got sent for refreshments, and got a little sidetracked.  When Belle catches up to him, she's not at all pleased. A one shot in the Chosen, but not Wanted universe.
Relationships: Belle (Once Upon a Time)/Nicholas Rush
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Mistress

**Author's Note:**

> So I was challenged by Jackabelle73 on Tumblr in the Drabble challenge and I got a little bit carried away. The prompt was #149 'We started with one and now we have seven. You have no chill.'
> 
> This will make the best sense if you've seen SG:U

“What the fuck, Nick!”

He spun around, arms crossed away from the walls of Destiny with the myriad calculations scrawled all over the walls.

Belle reached out and plucked the chalk from his fingers, waving it angrily at him as she spoke, berated him - again - for sneaking off to the calculations when he was supposed to be getting them something to eat.

“I can explain,” he murmured, reaching for the chalk.

“No,” she snapped. “Not this time. You can’t keep doing this. You can’t just keep… bedding me and then running back to your mistress.”

“Mistress, I…?” he frowned in concentration, not getting it.

“Yes, Rush,” now he _knew_ she was pissed and not just playing. She only ever called him Rush - particularly in that tone of voice - when she wanted to cut his balls off and hand them to him on a platter. “Mistress.”

She gestured first at the walls, and then around them both taking in the walls of Destiny herself.

“I _knew_ I’d find you here,” she pushed him with such force that he fell against the chalk covered wall, smearing some of the calculations and erasing some altogether. “Want to know how?”

He shook his head. He didn’t, not really, but he had a feeling he was going to get told anyway.

“I knew because I visited that little virtual world of yours. I thought you said you were done with that,” she went on, on a roll, more furious and upset that he had ever seen her since they left Icarus Base. “Done with your _fantasy_ women and the goddamn chair!”

“Belle, I…” he faltered, catching her by the shoulders and leaning down to look into her face. “I am,” he said, “I promise you. I’m done with them. It’s you… it’s only you, I just…” he sighed, “I _need_ Mandy, and Gloria… two faces of Destiny, don’t you understand. They help me to focus my mind, to see what I missing, to find the key to all these fucking impossible calculations.”

“Oh, so maybe _I’m_ the mistress then,” she spat into his face. “The person you turn to when you just want a quick fuck to relieve the physical frustrations so your mind can stay clear for the digital motherfuckers that _really_ keep you going.”

“Belle!” he snapped. “You have _no_ idea, do you? No idea what you mean to me?”

“How _could_ I,” she thew up her hands breaking his hold on her shoulders, “When you spend the best part of your time between the chair and this damn hallway?” She grabbed him then, and almost reflexively he moved his arms slightly in, to be able to cover himself if he needed to. “It isn’t _right_ , Nicholas.” He cursed himself as he saw the tears gather in Belle’s eyes. He hated it. Once it would have made him angry. Now it only made him want to prove to her that _she_ was the one he thought of first and only.

“Belle,” he repeated her name more softly, and she pointed the chalk at him as if it were a weapon.

“No,” she said, “Don’t you _dare_. Don’t you dare try to placate me!”

“Do I look that stupid?” he muttered, and reaching out quickly snatched the chalk from her hand and flung it aside. She slapped him then, and he rocked back a moment before catching her wrist as she tried again, turning her, turning them both until he could push her up against the wall and kiss her.

The kiss was hard, and needy and possessive, and after only a moment she stopped fighting him, opened to his kiss and returned it just as hard, just as needy and possessive until they were breathless and had no choice but to break the kiss. That was only the beginning. Breaking the kiss signaled the flurry of hands grasping at clothes, pushing at hastily donned fatigues and cotton shirts. He moaned as he found she wore nothing beneath her clothes, no bra, no panties, just the softness of her skin. He pulled his own shirt off over his head from where she’d bunched it as she worked on his pants, and tugged them down barely enough to grasp his hard and aching length in the heat of her hand. It wasn’t enough. He wanted her - needed her, and wrapped his arms around, lifting her even as she guided him to find her wet heat, and pull him into her with the wrap of her legs around his hips. She let out a soft cry as he buried himself inside of her.

It was hurried and messy, full of angry passion that grabbed everything inside of him and tipped his mind toward total acceptance of all that they meant to each other, all that they could do together - how much he needed her and she needed him. She became breathless, moving with him more and more swiftly, clasping her inner muscles around him possessively and drawing a low, groaning cry from him as he felt all of her, tense and trembling with the need for release, that she passed to him. Their mouths met again, completing the circle, like a switch suddenly thrown, and they cried out together as he pulsed inside her, his hot thick seed filling her, and she clasped and pulsed rhythmically and drank him dry.

Then sank together to the floor, spent and all but falling apart, except that he tightened his arms around her and kept her close, holding her tightly as they both caught their breath.

After a while, she lifted her head and he managed the energy to scoot backwards, leaning his back against the opposite wall, and letting her lean against him, beyond that, he didn’t even had the energy left to open his eyes.

“Fuck,” he heard her hiss, and he nuzzled at her cheek, the rasp of his whiskers against the soft skin of her face like an accompaniment to their still labored breathing.

“No, Nick,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, I… just… the calculations. The unsolved calculation…”

“What about it,” he murmured, beginning to open his eyes, and squinting to make them focus as he did.

“Well,” Belle said softly, “We had one… and… now, we have seven.”

“You have no chill,” he answered, but far from angry, he just chuckled. “Fuck the calculations,” he added. “Which are closer, your quarters or mine?”


End file.
